


TAM Drabbles

by Doceo_Percepto



Series: A Noncanon Version of Little Nightmares II [2]
Category: Little Nightmares (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Spoilers for TAM!!, Vomit, mentions of cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28493712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doceo_Percepto/pseuds/Doceo_Percepto
Summary: Scenes from Tender as Meat from Six's perspective instead of Mono's.
Series: A Noncanon Version of Little Nightmares II [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652644
Comments: 5
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the scene where Mono makes Six eat meat and she gets sick *finger guns*
> 
> Written for Nox to give an idea of Six's thought processes.

I told him that I’d eaten other kids before. Right out in the open. He asked and I said yes. Or nodded, at least, which is the same. 

_I admitted it._

Yet he’s still with me. Guiding me. He isn’t happy, no: I saw that fear on his face, and felt that little lurch in my stomach that told me he's vulnerable. Guilt, regret. So many times I’ve seen those. How short the senders lived after. Not him. 

I look after his back on the way to the store, studying him like I might figure him out. I can’t, though, not really. I can’t figure out what he’ll do, either. Things are precarious right now; the air’s tightening around me and closing in. Tension. Uncertainty. He keeps glancing at me warily, like he’s not sure if I’ll attack him or not. I haven’t decided on that, either. Maybe the blood makes him nervous. It often does that. Though it smells sweet and luring, there’s something that warns a person away, the inherent revulsion of something inside being on the outside. 

When we slip into the store, I go straight for the sink and begin to clean off the offending substance. Will he find me less frightening then? Does something like that really matter? Sometimes people do draw arbitrary lines. I argue with myself about whether I should clean the coat, even as I rinse away the blood.

I like staying clean, mostly, but I don’t want to clean myself _because_ it makes him happy. He should be happy how I am. 

My desire to have a tidy coat overrides any other desire. Once it’s spotless (more or less), I trail him into the next room, curious. I don’t want to let him out of my sight. If he plans to run away, then I won’t let him. He goes straight for the boxes of food. 

Oh. 

He’s just eating, then. He was probably hungry, too. My caution was unfounded: he’s not running away. He’s not even looking in this direction. For a few moments, I watch him rifling through the food, but the air still feels thicker than blood and it’s poisoning. He’s barely said anything to me. I don't know what to do with that. 

I told him I’d eaten other kids. That’s usually when people ran away, or tried to. Sometimes they got mad and tried to hurt me. Once someone froze like a big-eyed deer, and flinched at my every move. 

But this? This is new. I rub my palm along my forearm like I might be able to rub off the sticky, tension-riddled air. No luck. It’s in my lungs, too, and in my belly, which would have otherwise been happily full and uncomplicated. A soft hiss releases between my teeth. Miserable. I hate feeling this way. I don’t know how this might go. I want Mono to like me. I don’t want to be what he likes if it isn’t me, though. I want to be honest. I want him to like me _anyway_. 

Bitterly frustrated, I slump to the floor and hug my knees to my chest. Did I ruin things again? 

Stupid. He wasn’t special or anything. I just want people to like me in general, and they tend not to, but he… 

He’s different. 

Is he?

I think he is. Mostly. He didn’t run away. He didn’t freeze. He didn’t attack me. Maybe he’d be different. 

A loud _slap_ has my senses flooding back fast and I jerk my head up. Mono has finished eating, it seems, and now he’s dragging a slab of meat my direction. 

_Oh._

I understand, well before he arrives at my side, and fixes his look expectantly upon me. 

I get it, yeah. My head droops as I stare mournfully at the uncooked slab. 

“Eat,” he says. 

Hot anger rises and almost as quickly dies, with no evidence of it reaching the physical plane. He’s not the first to try and make me. He probably won’t be the last. Everybody thinks they know something about Hunger. They have these dumb ideas -

“Isn’t this what you need?”

-like if I just eat enough, it’ll be fine, or this and that. Nobody gets it. Not even him. It’s not that simple. It never is. 

“ _Eat it._ ” He says that sharper, with an edge of anger. 

Maybe another time it would have been great to eat. Not after already having my fill. It was only dead meat. I avert my eyes and jerk my head in a refusal. I’ve plaayed this game too many times. Eat this. Eat that. Eat now. Not then. It’s insulting. Disgusting. Painful, sometimes. But people do it again and again. Because they think they know better than I do about how Hunger works. 

“I don’t care if you’re not hungry! _Eat_!” The intensity behind the words makes me flinch, and something deep down flares in warning: _I could eat_ you _, and be better off._

Then I’d be alone, though. I think about his eyes. I think about us playing in the forest. Slowly, I return my gaze to the meat slab. It’s awful. Not what I want. I want fresh, _live,_ if I’m going to eat at all. 

Mono’s miming in the background about _how_ to eat, like I’m too stupid to know how to feed myself. 

Fine. 

_Fine._

If he thinks he knows so much better, he can see the consequences of his ‘knowledge.’ I untangle my limbs and kneel, although it takes a moment to steady myself. I’ve forced myself to eat a _lot._ That doesn’t actually make it any easier, especially when I know the end result. Yuck.

_I hope you enjoy this, Mono._

It’s meant to be cruel to him, but it still feels like losing when I bite in. Sometimes it hurts, hurting other people. 

_Don’t you dare cry._

_I’m not going to cry, I’m just proving a point. I’m right and he’s wrong._

_It’s more complicated than that._

Another stubborn bite. _I’m right and he’s wrong._

_You’re only hurting yourself._

_Shut up._

Another bite. Every one of them I have to focus hard on swallowing, against every instinct to do otherwise. Why does it matter? It’s not like it’s anything new. I’ve been made to eat a bunch of times. It shouldn't be any different when _I’m_ making myself eat. It’s a choice I’m making, to show him he’s wrong, and it doesn’t have to be that big of a deal. I’ll just throw up and prove to him that I’m doing the best I can, and he needs to lay off, and - 

The next bite sticks in my throat. Hot panic crawls up my neck. No. Swallow. _Now_. My stomach turns. Bile rises up. No. _Swallow_. 

_Why am I doing this-_

My teeth grit together. No. This doesn’t feel good anymore, if it ever did. 

_I don’t want to throw up._

Half a dozen memories flood in. Hunched over the toilet, vile whispers behind me. Plates laden with a surplus of food, all of it reeking like burnt, ruined, _disgusting_ -

_NO_

I clamp my hands to my mouth. 

_I told you you were only hurting yourself._

My body heaves. I hate throwing up. I hate it so much. I’ve done it so much. Why again. 

_Because YOU-_

Another heave, and liquid sprays between my fingers. I’m queasy to my very bones and now I’m gross and I hate it. But I’m showing him, aren’t I? I’m showing him I know best. 

That argument feels so flimsy now and I know it. I might be proving my point but it doesn’t feel like winning. It doesn’t feel like the victory I wanted. It’s hollow, and miserable. Tears prick at my eyes, and very shortly begin to pour down. I want it to stop. I want - 

Distantly, I hear Mono crying out for me to just throw up. I don’t think I would’ve held it any longer, anyway. 

The next few moments are awful. Crying and vomiting again and again, until there’s nothing left in my stomach. Until it’s empty, even of the stuff I wanted to keep in. Until my face is swollen with tears, and I’m left gasping and wondering why I hadn’t said no. 

_You wanted to prove a point._

Then Mono is _there._ Warm, soothing, gentle. I don’t _have_ to cling to him. I _don’t_ need him. That occurs to me. 

Then I’m sobbing into his shoulder and angrily think, _I don’t have to but I need comfort right now, okay?_

It’s ugly. And it lasts way too long. By the end, my whole face is throbbing from the effort of crying, and I feel ready to collapse from exhaustion, but he’s still holding me up. Holding me to him, even though I’m… really revolting right now. Finally I pull away. It’s like I’ve been run over ten times, and I know I must look awful. But he still ruffles my hair, and gives me a warm look. 

It makes me feel foolish, like I’ve done something unneeded and petty (I did) that only hurt me, but…

I can’t help faintly returning the smile. 

_He_ is _different._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is in the Factory/Hospital, right after Six eats a bunch of kids who were going to rat out Mono and Six.

It’s ecstasy. I haven’t eaten that well in so long, and every cell in my body sings with the sheer pleasure of it. I want to close my eyes and be swept along, thinking about nothing except the taste of all the souls I’ve got trapped in me, all the shadows aching to stretch and flare like wings. Nobody could even _touch_ me right now if I didn’t want them to. I feel like a god.

My smile is beaming as I face Mono. Nobody will touch him, either. _I can protect you. I can look after you._ Exactly as I just have, defending him from these dumb kids. It’s him and me, together. I’m on the verge of laughing from the delight and power when -

“ _You didn’t have to do that._ ”

My heart swoops into my stomach. Old fears rear their head. Old angers. Old hurts. _Remember, people always hurt you, or disappoint you._ But he held down that little girl, stopped her from screaming when I ate her alive. He was okay with that. Why not this?

Mono is complicated. It’s okay. He’s probably just confused. Needs a reminder, maybe. I link my fingers with his like an entreaty. _Don’t you remember? We’re in this together._

Having just eaten my fill makes being calm harder. Energy skates along every vein. My emotions are more prone to dips and soars. I’m so _alive_ , and I want this to be good, but now he’s drawing some line? After everything, he’s upset _now_?

His hand is stiff in mine. Unresponsive. Coldness seeps in but I fight it off, and offer a tiny smile. He hasn’t pulled away, and that’s important. Even if he isn’t reciprocating. His stony expression is impossible to read. He needs to say something. To explain himself. Why now?

“Let’s keep moving.” Three short, brusque words. Then he shakes off my hand and turns and there’s his back, retreating. 

That’s it. That’s _it._ I was on top of the world. I protected him. _I_ saved him, and killed all those kids for him, and _he_ gets upset for no good reason, and now he won’t even explain? He won’t even try to rectify the situation? My lips peel back and my shadows wind around my limbs.

_He’s going to leave you. He’s going to hurt you. You think he’s been comfortable with what you’re doing?_

My mind see-saws. Yeah, he’s been comfortable with it. No, he hasn’t been. I think about his glances. I think about his scent, when it gets that sour edge of fear. There’s been evidence, all along. I don’t want to see it, though. I don’t want him to leave. 

_He will, just like everyone else. You really think someone else is okay with what you do?_

_He SHOULD be._

_He’s not like you._

_He SHOULD be._

_It’s only a matter of time._

_No._

My fingers claw into my hair. I was so happy. And he ruined it. He ruined it.

_Stop it. What did you expect?_

I wanted him to be different. 

_He isn’t._

_He IS._

Back and forth I vacillate. 

_Kill him. He keeps doing this to you. Kill him and he can be with you forever and he can’t leave you._

It’s a good method. With the vitality twining through my body, making me electric, it sounds good to do it here. Just like before, with the others that were going to be my friends but betrayed me. People never get it. Never get Hunger. Just judge. Then they get what’s coming to them. My tongue curls over my teeth. 

I have really wanted to eat him, for a long time. I want to know what his soul tastes like. I bet it’s unique, that it’d be a stark refreshing change from all the ones I’ve just devoured. He wouldn't hurt me again. He’d just be with me, forever. I take a few steps in slow pursuit, and then stop. 

He’s been with me so much longer than anybody else. Even now, he’s not really trying to hurt me, right? 

_Does it matter?_

Yes. I think it does. My insides hurt as I grapple with the decision I know I’m about to make. It’s so easy to kill him, see. So pleasant. So warm. My decision, my right, and then we’re together. No more suffering. Together we could go to the Signal Tower and everything would be uncomplicated. If it was up to me, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But he… he wouldn't like that. 

_Who cares?_

_I think I do._

By now, he’s retreated into the darkness, unaware I wasn’t following. Uncaring. Consumed in his own choices. But I could easily find him, I can still smell him. 

Only… 

My arms wrap around myself. Maybe this once, only this once, I’ll… make an exception. 

It’s a hard choice, and I seethe over it. _I_ want him with me. Who cares what _he_ thinks?

But maybe… maybe I’ll let him go. 

We’ll go separate ways. He gets to live. 

_And you suffer alone? Really? He won’t care anymore once he’s dead anyway, just do it._

A tiny, heartbroken smile appears on my face. It sort of feels good, making this hard choice. Isn’t that weird? It feels good, though. He might never know how special it is. 

_Allright._

Before I can change my mind, I turn and run in the opposite direction. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one! This time it takes place after they killed the Doctor and Mono confronts Six about eating a bunch'a kiddos.

“It’s about the kids you killed, isn’t it? Or my - my reaction to that.”

He really doesn’t know. He honestly doesn’t know why I left. I made my choice. I left him, and saved his life by doing so. And now he wants to have this conversation, like we actually have a chance of still seeing through this to its end together, instead of splitting up.

“I’m right, though. What you did back there… that wasn’t… _good_. You didn’t _need_ to do that. You get that, right?”

Every word stings and a low anger roils. Yeah, I know kids don’t like it when I eat other kids. That seems pretty obvious. I’m not _stupid_. And maybe I didn’t need to kill them all, but what did it even matter? They were threatening Mono, and they could have alerted adults. Nobody likes a tattle tale. 

“We could have just ran. Like we always do.”

I flash my teeth at him warningly. I get he’s upset. But I am what I am. My choices are my own. If he doesn’t like it, he can back off. Get the sense to stop harassing me and just leave like everybody else. He really has no idea that if he _were_ anybody else, he’d be dead right now. 

“Look, I still want to travel with you, okay? Just because I’m upset with you doesn’t mean I - I want to leave, or stop being friends.”

_What._ It’s hard to refocus on those words, but my expression gentles. Focus. It’s an active challenge, crawling out from the indignance. He wasn’t planning on leaving. No. That makes sense, _I_ was planning on leaving. But I had to, because…

Because…

I don’t have time to process before he’s continuing, “but this isn’t how friendships work. You can’t pull away every time I ask questions. And you can’t do whatever you want and expect me to be okay with it!”

_Hold on, I’m trying to think._

“What you did back there… I get needing to eat, okay? I understand. But that… that was no better than the adults. That’s _scary_ , Six.”

_Shut up, hold on._ I bristle, aggravation rising, because he’s not giving me enough time to think about what stance I have on this subject. It’s a jumble of _but I was protecting you - but I wanted to do it - you don’t understand how good it feels - maybe he’s right - I’m always right - who cares if I’m better than the adults; this isn’t some competition - what if I’m being irrational - who CARES - I want him to stay if he can - he’s yelling at me and I don’t like that - kill him - maybe he’s right?_

“Instead of just waiting until you do something awful enough for me to leave, why don’t you - _not_ do awful things?”

The growl that escapes my throat is his warning to stop pressing on this subject that I clearly don’t like. Why doesn’t he just leave and make this easier on us both? (Why am I not leaving?)

“No! You don’t get to just retreat and feel sorry for yourself because people keep ditching you. I _want_ to be your friend, Six. But that’s kind of a two-way street, okay? And when you just -“ he waved his hand vaguely, “slaughter a dozen kids because you feel like it- I deserve answers! I deserve to know what the hell is going on in your head!”

Something outside the room clatters, and it jerks me from my inexplicable paralysis. Instantly I’m bolting, but Mono grabs my wrist and hauls me into a nearby cabinet instead. Stupid. Running is better than hiding, because we have all this space to run now.

While he listens carefully, my own mind is turned inward. If nothing else, the small break from him yelling at me gives me space to think. 

_I deserve answers._

_Does he?_

No. Hunger is my own. 

I tremble slightly. Mono has made me think and feel so many new things. This doubt is new. I don’t like it, it’s ugly and powerful and it makes me weak when I used to be strong. 

_Think about it, though._ He doesn’t _want_ to leave. A person who wanted to leave wouldn't go through all this effort, would they? _If they wanted to hurt me, yes._

He doesn’t, though. He’s Mono. 

Those last two words come with a tender, caressing sort of softness. _He’s Mono._

_Maybe I’m wrong._

_No._

_Not wrong, then. I got too wrapped up in the emotion._

_He should learn to deal with that and not yell. He has to learn to deal with what you’re going to do._

That was true. 

Does he just want an explanation, and then we can be friends again? … Am I willing to give an explanation? 

I don’t have time to decide before Mono determines the danger is over, and the two of you step out of the cabinet. Things are quieter, now. I avoid his gaze. Deep down, I don’t want to leave him. I don’t even _really_ want to kill him, because keeping his soul as my hostage isn’t the same as him willingly being here in life, playing with me, fighting alongside me. Nobody else has stuck with me for so long.

“You’ll wanna do something like that again, won’t you?” He whispers. “Like hurting all those kids?”

I can’t deny it. Even the thought makes me salivate. Things have been painful and scary lately, with all Mono’s questions and all the things that threaten to tear us apart. So eating right now sounds really good. Like sinking into a hot bath, and feeling my worries melt away. I want that badly. I want to eat. 

“Don’t you _want_ to do the right thing?”

It’s a colossal effort to pull my mind away from the temptation of consumption. Want to do the right thing… I nod. Yeah. I think so. I like the idea. It’s a novel one, but I like it. 

I feel like real communication is happening here. He knows the right questions to ask, ones with simple answers. We’re coming to some kind of understanding. At least until he abruptly changes the subject out of the blue, 

“New rule. You need to tell me whenever you’re hungry.”

_What._

“And - _AND_ \- you’re not allowed to kill _anyone_ without asking first… Except maybe adults. The scary ones.”

He’s making _rules_ now? Trying to control it, like everyone else had, and it doesn’t _work_ like that. _He’s not saying you can’t kill. He’s not trying to control what you eat._

_Well, he’s still trying to do_ something _._

“You can’t just run around wild and do whatever you want. Not when you're playing with people’s lives like they’re nothing.”

I roll my eyes. People’s lives _are_ nothing. Kids die by the millions. What I do barely makes a dent. Though I wish it would. I wish I could eat so much more.

“This isn’t a game. If you can’t promise me those things, then I’m _not_ going to the Signal Tower.”

The words are like a knife in my back. Before, I was the bigger person and left him and let him live. Now suddenly, it’s his choice. If I kill him, if I leave. It will have been his choice, his final say. 

He will _leave_ if I don’t agree. Or rather, I will kill him before he can.

“I’m not being _mean_. I’m trying to do something good, Six. And I want you to, as well.”

The murderous intent diminishes. His face is all sincere and solemn. He’s really trying. 

Does it matter, though? He doesn’t know what’s best. I’ve taken care of myself all this time, and I know what to do best. Although… he’s only ever been genuine. He’s _Mono_ , after all. He’s not wearing down the same useless paths as others have. He’s not saying I can’t eat what I want. He’s… trying really hard to find a way for us to stay together. 

Affection blends with uncertainty. Part of me pleads that it’d be so much simpler to devour him and not think about it a second more. It’s a battle inching through that haze. Just… _consider it, at least._ Think. 

' _You need to tell me whenever you’re hungry.’_

Old habits fight with new ones. Possessiveness wars with the craving for friendship. Not just any friendship, but his. _His_. Mono’s. 

I can still eat what I want. He just has to give permission. It’s controlling and uncomfortable, but the harder I try to squint into what he must think or feel, the more I begin to peek on where he’s coming from. If he _has_ always been uncomfortable - maybe even when he was helping me eat that girl - then it _would_ be hard for him to want to stay. But then why not try to stop it entirely? Does he realize how futile that is? Isn’t this just putting the blame in his hands? Does he want that? 

No, nevermind. The harder I squint the less I understand. He _is_ trying to control it, but he doesn’t mean badly. He’s trying to look out for us both. 

Well, it doesn’t have to be like a _contract._ I can agree now, and decide in the future if I change my mind. 

“So?” He prompts. 

I say yes, and he stays with me. So I nod. 

“You agree to tell me as soon as you’re hungry?”

That doesn’t really seem too bad. In fact, it’s nice to be so open about it. Nod-nod. 

“And you won’t kill anyone until we both decide it’s the right thing to do?”

This is a dangerous one to agree to. This says, I can’t eat when I need it. In theory. But we’re almost always together. He knows me. He knows what I need to do, mostly. He helped with that girl. He gave me meat, too. And he didn’t blame me when I ate that boy I was caged with. My heart beats faster. Maybe this isn’t so bad. Maybe I don’t even need to reconsider it another time. I was being unreasonable this whole time; I wasn’t trusting him when I should have. 

I nod again, with more certainty. 

He exhales. “Pinky promise?”

Pinky promises. Familiar, comforting. Just like before. A soft smile appears on my face as I link my pinkie with his. Agreement. Binding. 

Maybe it’s not so bad to view it like a contract. Maybe I’ll actually come to like it. Someone else to help me take care of Hunger… for the first time, I’m willing to not do it alone, because… because I actually trust him. Shivers skitter along my skin, but they feel good, not bad. If anyone has some say in Hunger outside of myself, it deserves to be him. A small burden is lifted from my shoulders; one I didn’t know existed. This is the right choice. I know that suddenly, with great conviction. And I’m _relieved_.

_I’ll stick to my promises, Mono._


End file.
